Pairing(s): Sam x ReaderPrompt/Summary: Reader and Sam are best friends and roommates during their
senior year at Stanford. Reader has feelings for Sam, but he’s dating Jess…
until the Reader and Sam stumble upon a discovery.Reader Gender: Female Word Count: 2,137Warnings: light swearing, cheating, angst, no smut yet, slightly au maybe?A/N: This is my first fic ever so I’m open for some constructive criticism. I
read over this one million times, but there are bound to be grammatical errors,
sorry. Also, I love Jess, her characterization is just for this fic’s purposes. Obviously there are going to be multiple parts, if that’s okay with y’all!

Because she is pure sunshine and deserves all the happiness in the world, I wrote her a little sum’sum. We both enjoy MasterChef and cooking shows in general and I wanted to try out some different techniques to describe the senses other than sight so… yeah. This one’s for you, Meg! As for the rest of you, go wish her a happy birthday. She’s going to know she’s loved, dammit. If it’s the last thing I ever do, she will know!

Percabeth MasterChef AU

~

Alright, Annabeth, she told herself. Just breathe.

She leveled her shoulders, adjusted the hem of her blouse, and stepped into the arena. Calling it an arena might not do it justice. It wasn’t the typical ‘gladiators fighting to the death’ kind after all. It was the set of MasterChef, the televised competition for amateur, at-home cooks. For the top title and a quarter of a million dollars, blood would be spilt here in more ways than one.

The repurposed airplane hangar was packed, buzzing with energy, one Annabeth could literally feel in her chest as she walked to her station, carrying her basket of ingredients. The contestants who were scheduled to arrive earlier in the day were already cooking, preparing their signature dishes for the judges to try.

Cameras zoomed in on stews bubbling, knives slicing, blenders grinding, while producers with headsets and clipboards hovered nearby, making sure each opportunity was snagged for the perfect shot.

It really was a whole different world actually being there rather than seeing it on TV. She still felt like a voyeur, someone who shouldn’t be there, someone who was intruding. For years, Annabeth had been watching the show, only able to imagine what it would smell or taste like for herself. But she was here. She was finally here.